


What Wishes Reap

by WhinyWingedWinchester



Series: Death and Her Merchant [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Actions have consequences Steve, Gen, Implied/ambiguous pairing Tony/Lady Death, Not A Fix-It, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Salty author, The Avengers are not a family, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Wanda Maximoff is not a good person, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhinyWingedWinchester/pseuds/WhinyWingedWinchester
Summary: "Honestly, there are a lot of days lately where I can’t help but think the world, and us, would be better off if Tony Stark had never been born.”In a world of gods and monsters, it is dangerous to speak wishes aloud, when anyone or anything could be listening. Some people do not appreciate the way the Avengers treat Tony Stark, and one careless wish spoken where they can hear abandons the Avengers in a world where Tony Stark doesn't exist, and all the good he's gone never was.It reveals a lot of truths.Some hurt more than others.





	1. The Team

**Author's Note:**

> A salty, 100% not Team-Cap friendly, the author is still salty Yay for Tony fic :D 
> 
> Thank you to my ever wonderful UmbraeCalamitas for her reading, shrieking, summary writing and love. You're a goddess.

Steve could see it, the moment that Tony finally realised that he’d gone too far in disobeying Steve’s orders in the field today. Tony tugged his sunglasses from his vest pocket and put them back on, his posture changing from open and combative, to closed and defensive.  _Finally,_ Steve thought.

" _Nine_  people, Stark!  _Nine_! It doesn’t matter that they were SHIELD agents! You deliberately disobeyed me and got nine people hurt! Four of whom are still in Medical!”

Tony shuffled his feet and tipped his head to the side, that cocky smirk that Steve wanted to just wipe off his face on his lips and his ridiculously coloured sunglasses back in place over his eyes. Honestly, what kind of grown man wears  _orange_  sunglasses?

“Well Capsicle, the way I see it is – I ignored your shitty plan for the one that my data said made more sense. I disabled the bombs and saved over two hundred civilian lives. Or,” he crossed his arms and tipped his head back to look Steve in the eye from beneath garish orange lenses. “Or are you saying that the _ouchies_  of nine SHIELD agents is worth preventing more than the two hundred innocent people who would’ve _died_?”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and grit his teeth. If it wasn’t for the fact that punching Tony would get him yelled at by Fury he’d just cold-clock the smarmy son-of-a-bitch and be done with it.

“Right. You can consider yourself benched for the next two weeks, Stark. Iron Man is officially off the roster until I can see that you’re willing to listen to your team leader in the field. You may not be a soldier, but you wanna be an Avenger? Then you better start learning to listen.” He put his hands on his hips and stood up straighter in a way that he knew was intimidating. Steve was taller than Tony, and he was going to use that to his advantage now. “Iron Man, you will be attending today’s debriefing and then you can go and find Pepper or something. Dismissed.”

Tony stared up at him and Steve watched as he unfolded his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets. The outrageously tight cut of his dress pants didn’t leave a lot of room for it, but Tony did it anyway, before shrugging and sauntering out of the conference room into the main area of the compound, the door clicking closed quietly behind him. Steve immediately collapsed back into a chair and thunked his head down on the table.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “The man is a walking migraine.”

Clint threw himself into the chair beside Steve and slumped forward to rest on his arms. “You fuckin’ said it,” he grouched. “What an absolute cluster fuck that was.”

Steve didn’t bother to nod his aching head, he just grunted his agreement.

“I think we would be better off without him some days,” Natasha said softly. “Tony Stark is many things, but he is not hero material.”

Wanda scoffed loudly from her seat across the table. Steve didn’t even have to look up to know that she would be nodding her agreement to Natasha’s statement. “It’s true,” she said, and Steve almost felt bad for Tony at the amount of venom in her tone. “He is a liability to us. He is dangerous and unstable.”

“I do not think Mr. Stark is  _quite_ that bad,” Vision disagreed politely. “But I must agree that he is rather reckless. And his propensity to not listen to Captain Roger’s orders is rather worrying.”

“He’s a fucking menace, Vis. And he’s gonna get one of us killed one day.” Wanda mumbled her agreement to Clint’s vicious statement, and Vision sighed.

“Regardless. He is the main financial backer and equipment provider for the Avengers Initiative. We live under his roof here at the compound; he provides all your food and pays the bills to keep this facility running. It is in your best interest to not provoke him, Miss Maximoff, Mr. Barton. Mr. Stark is known for making rash decisions on a whim.”

“He’s getting better,” Bruce interrupted quietly. “He brought me back.”

“Yeah but you didn’t want to come back. You took off for a reason, Banner.”

Bruce sighed and shook his head at Clint. “It’s not the point. The point is that the team is everything to Tony, if he doesn’t say it.”

Steve bit down on a bitter laugh. If the team were really everything to Stark then he wouldn’t disobey the way he did. He wouldn’t be trying to tear them apart with his insolence and arrogance.

“I wish Stark was not an Avenger. He is destroying our team,” Wanda said resentfully, hunching down in her seat and shuffling closer to Vision.

“Wanda’s got a point, man. Might be time to think about reshuffling the lineup.”

Steve sighed and sat back up, scrubbing his hands tiredly down his face. “Honestly, there are a lot of days lately where I can’t help but think the world, and us, would be better off if Tony Stark had never been born.” Bruce just sighed, but he didn’t argue against it.

_“Your wish is my command, Captain.”_

They all sat up straight, as the cold voice seemed to echo throughout the room from the walls itself. Wanda shivered and stared around with wild eyes. “Show yourself! You cannot hide from me,” she hissed, her hands and eyes flaring with bright red wisps of her magic.

There was an echoing laugh that made the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck stand up. _“Stand down little witch. You know not whom you speak to. I have heard the desires of your most traitorous hearts. I am giving you your wish. A world without Tony Stark.”_ The voice laughed, and Steve struggled to keep his eyes open as a wave of white mist rolled in from nowhere, surrounding them and choking the air from their lungs. _“Let us see how long you last in a world without its light.”_

“Wh-who _are_ you?” Steve choked, his knees slamming onto the ground as he brought his hands up to grab at his throat, the mist forcing its way down his gullet and filling his lungs. A frantic glance to either side showed Natasha and Clint gasping and grabbing at their own necks, Wanda’s magic flickering out as she slumped over. Bruce and Vision were already unconscious, the mist hovering above their prone forms.

Another wicked laugh from the disembodied voice and Steve fought desperately to stay awake, the bodies of his teammates hitting the ground beside him, Natasha’s choking cutting abruptly off. _“I am my Merchant’s only true friend. Farewell, Captain America.”_

Steve gasped, his hands still grasping at his throat as it convulsed around nothing, the mist overwhelming him. He caught a brief glimpse of strange white eyes and dark hair shimmering into view before his eyes closed and the mist took him down.

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

Steve opened his eyes in a small room, the plain beige walls and lace curtains fluttering against the window in an almost non-existent breeze. A look to his side and the small alarm clock radio that had been beeping at him was shut off with a vicious smack. Steve sat up slowly, holding his head and groaning at the headache pounding away behind his eyes.

“Where… what?” he mumbled, looking around. He was in an unfamiliar room, in an uncomfortable and too-small bed. None of his personal effects were anywhere in sight, and his shield was missing. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he recalled what he’d dreamt. A strange voice telling them that it would grant their wishes and show a world without it’s… Merchant?

“What Merchant?” Steve swung his legs to the floor and shivered at the feel of the cold wood beneath his bare feet. “FRIDAY, turn the floor heating on.” Steve waited, but there was no acknowledgement from the AI. “FRIDAY?” he asked again, frowning at the ceiling. Something was _not_ right. FRIDAY was a young AI, according to Stark it was more of a VI, whatever the hell kind of difference _that_ made, but she would never ignore a direct command.

An odd buzzing noise coming from beside the bed caught his attention and Steve fumbled around on the floor before grasping a small black box that was vibrating. He looked at it, turning it over in his hands before realising it was a phone. He’d never seen one that looked like this before, it was the size of a soda bottle and at least five times as thick as his StarkPhone had been. A few more seconds of investigation exposed a latch that flipped the phone outwards, doubling its size and revealing a keypad with a glowing green button that said ‘Answer’. Baffled by the lack of touch screen and handsfree options, he pressed it and held it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

_“Steve? Steve is that you?”_

“Clint?”

A relieved sigh crackled over the phone. _“Yeah man, it’s me. What the hell, Cap? Where are we?”_

“Clint, I have no idea. I don’t even know where I am. It took me a minute to even work out how to answer this phone! And FRIDAY isn’t responding…”

 _“Yeah, wherever I am, its not the compound. And I’ve got a_ landline _Cap. A fuckin’ landline. What the hell? I haven’t had one of those in more than a decade.”_

Steve shook his head. He wasn’t even sure what a landline was. “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything,” he said. “Is Nat with you? Bruce? _Anyone?_ ”

Clint breathed harshly down the phone. _“No Cap. But when I looked around my room, I found a piece of paper with Nat’s name and a number. Number’s been disconnected though. I don’t think I’m in a SHIELD base either, seems to be some kind of apartment block maybe.”_ Steve rubbed at his eyes and sighed softly. _“Hold up Cap, I’ve found a local paper… what the fuck,”_ he muttered. _“Cap, I’m in Melbourne!_ Australia!”

“What in the hell?” Steve sat back down on his bed, hard, and stared at the beige paint on his walls, fixating on the cracks he could see. “Why’re you in _Australia_?”

_“I don’t know Steve, but I’m gonna get on the first plane back home so we can fix… whatever the hell this is. Can you try and track Banner and Stark?”_

Steve nodded absently before remembering that Clint couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.” They said goodbye and Steve waited until the call disconnected before turning the weird phone over in his hands a few times. He wasn’t sure what a landline phone was but he was positive it was some kind of outdated tech.

The rest of the room proved to be as empty of personal belongings as he’d originally thought. There was no sign of his shield, no books or letters, no take out menus or calendars. The only thing was a small army issue duffel bag at the end of his bed with a few plain white shirts, sweatpants and toiletries. This wasn’t a motel room, he’d figured that out quick enough. There was a small bathroom to his left, and an even smaller kitchenette to his right. A lease agreement and Army discharge papers in the top drawer of his bedside table listed his address as a small apartment block not too far from where the Avengers Compound was. A full Army dress uniform was folded on the small table by the door, a receipt for a dry cleaners on top. Steve looked it over. _Barnes Dry-cleaning._

 _What the hell?!_ Steve’s hand clenched around the receipt, the name Barnes immediately bringing his lost Bucky to mind. Was he nearby? Or was it just some weird coincidence? He scanned the number on the top and dialled it quickly.

An older woman answered the phone, and Steve felt his heart skip a beat in his chest.

_“Barnes Dry-cleaning, this is Rebecca Barnes. Can I help you?”_

Steve nearly dropped the phone as he fumbled to hang it up, eventually just snapping it closed. _Rebecca Barnes_ . The address on the receipt for the dry cleaner was for Brooklyn. Steve sat back down on his bed, and hung his head in his hands. _What the hell is going on?_

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

Bruce was no stranger to waking up in strange places without his clothes. But when he opened his eyes to a small, dark room with an oddly glowing door, he knew immediately that something had gone terribly wrong. A quick pat down of his body showed he was wearing nothing more than what felt like cotton boxer shorts and a t-shirt.

He blinked a few times, but it did nothing to ease either the pounding headache or the blurriness of his vision. Wherever he was, they’d taken his glasses as well as his clothes. Bruce decided against attempting to touch the glowing door, and instead just stayed sitting on the floor where he’d woken up. Sure enough, not too long after he first opened his eyes, there was a strange hissing and whining noise, and the glowing on the door faded. A pale face peered in at him, and Bruce suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

“Good morning, Doctor Banner,” Thaddeus Ross’ grinning face was swimming before his blurry eyes and Bruce clapped a hand across his mouth so he wouldn’t vomit. “Are you ready to accompany me to the labs today? We’ve got to fine tune that suppression chemical after all.”

 _Suppression chemical.That’s why I can’t feel the Hulk._ Bruce’s mind was whirling at a hundred miles an hour as he desperately tried to process his situation.

“Where… where’s Tony?” he asked, wincing at how hoarse his voice was. Thaddeus blinked at him, confused.

“Tony… who?”

“…Stark. Tony Stark. Where are the Avengers? What have you done with them?”

Thaddeus actually looked concerned for a moment. “Doctor Banner, have you lost your mind? What on earth are you babbling about? The only Tony Stark that I have ever heard of was killed as a child in an accident with his parents. And who are the… Avengers, did you say? Sounds like wishful thinking. Still dreaming of a rescue? After all this time?”

 _Wishful thinking._ Why was that phrase stuck in his mind? _Wishful… wish..._

 _“Your wish is my command, Captain.”_ A shudder made its way down Bruce’s spine as the words that voice had said to them echoed in his mind. What was happening? What had they wished for?

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, eyes widening in shock. He ignored the way Ross was still standing there staring at him as though he’d actually gone off the deep-end and slumped over to rest his head on his knees. He ignored the guards that were suddenly rushing into the room and slapping restraints on his wrists and shoving him towards the door. “We wished for a world without Tony.”

 

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

“So tell me, Miss Romanoff, why it is that I shouldn’t just slit your throat now, hm? It would save us quite a bit of time and effort. After all, the _formidable_ Black Widow is a rather big inconvenience to us.”

Natasha stared up at Director Fury’s face, and winced when she saw no recognition there. He had no idea who she was. She licked dry lips, and felt the corner where it was split, tasted the blood that had dried along them. She’d woken up not too long ago, hands and ankles expertly bound to the chair she was in, and a gag in her mouth. Fury had removed the gag before he began questioning her.

“Are we at SHIELD?” Fury narrowed his eye at her.

“What, pray tell, is SHIELD?” Natasha felt cold wash over her at those words.

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. You’re the Director.”

“Oh am I now?” Fury stood up from where he’d been seated across from her, the metal legs of his chair scraping harshly against the linoleum floor. The bright fluorescent lights were casting awful shadows over his face as Natasha’s mind raced to try and work through what was happening. “It sounds to me, Miss Romanoff, that you’ve been fed some seriously incorrect information by one of your little informants.”

She cleared it and tried again. “Where are the rest of the Avengers then?” Fury simply blinked at her.

“Is this a game to you, Miss Romanoff?” She shook her head. “Then I suggest you stop trying to play one with me. No matter how well the Red Room trained you, I can guarantee you that _I am better._ Now,” he sat down on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. “You’re gonna tell me exactly what the hell Project Insight is.”

 _What the hell?_ Natasha licked her lips again, and twitched ineffectively against the restraints, noticing too late that the chair was bolted to the floor. They were clearly taking no chances. “I don’t know.”

Fury leant back a little and glared down his nose at her. “Wrong answer, Widow,” he said coldly. “I’m gonna have to bring in a friend of mine now, to take over the… _questioning_ for a while. But don’t worry,” Fury stood up and straightened his long leather trench coat out behind him. “Coulson is a reasonable guy, as long as you’re honest with him.”

He walked out without another look towards her, and Natasha felt genuine fear for the first time in years as Phil walked into the room, a little black leather satchel on his arm.

“Good afternoon, Miss Romanoff,” he said calmly and gave her his trademark bland little smile. He carefully sat the bag down on the table in front of her and Natasha could hear metal and glass clinking together. She _knew_ that bag. Knew what was in it, how to use them…

“Shall we begin the questioning?”

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

Clint was not a fan of Tony Stark. He would always be the first to admit it. He was noisy, flashy, loud and outrageous. Occasionally funny and sharp tongued, but he could be juvenile as hell with his emotions.

And, Clint hated the fact that he had more money than he’d ever be able to spend in one lifetime, hated that he was successful, hated the way that shit never seemed to stick to him. But the one thing that knowing Tony had been good for was the money that he hated him for. Usually, just saying the words ‘I’m an Avenger’ were enough. A quick identity check, and whatever they needed would be charged to one of Tony’s numerous accounts. Admittedly, they’d maybe all taken advantage of it once or twice… or more, in his and Wanda’s cases, but it was all perfectly justified by the fact that one man simply didn’t need that much money.

But the woman behind the desk at Qantas International didn’t care that he was an Avenger. She didn’t know what an Avenger was, nor did she know who Tony Stark was. Clint’s short temper had eventually gotten the best of him and he’d stormed off to find a café with Wi-Fi. His laptop was some old, clunky thing that said ‘Hammer/Stane’ on the front. It took forever to boot up, and ran slow as all hell. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited, and irritably waved away the young man who showed up to take his order. He’d already checked his pockets and come up empty. A crumpled five dollar note and some weird shaped silver coins had been all he had.

Finally the laptop was loaded and he quickly clicked onto the internet. His first search for ‘the Avengers’ showed no results. ‘Battle of New York’, ‘Sokovia’ and ‘Ultron’ were all the same. _Nothing._ A sense of dread creeping up on him, he typed in ‘Captain America’ and finally got his first hit.

_‘American Legend found in Arctic.’_

_‘Captain America sent to Army training camp.’_

_‘No Hero! Steven Rogers dishonourably discharged from US Army.’_

_What the_ fuck. Clint clicked on the last headline and quickly scanned the article.

_“… Steven Rogers was brought up on charges of insubordination and deliberately encouraging others into disobeying orders in the field to the detriment of other soldiers. Rogers intentionally acted outside of training parameters resulting in the death of three cadets. He was court martialed and dishonourably discharged.”_

Clint sat back in shock, wiping at his mouth to rid it of the sudden tingling feeling in his lips. _Shock,_ he thought randomly, and scrubbed harder at his tingly mouth. He typed in his next name – Natasha Romanoff. Zero hits. Not sure if that was a positive or not, he tried his next one. _Bruce Banner_ – over two hundred results. Most were links to YouTube videos of his first Hulk rampage, and then the most recent one was a short article stating that Doctor Banner had gone missing, and Lieutenant General Thaddeus Ross was heading the search efforts.

Clint gave a harsh swallow, and when the waiter cautiously approached him again, he asked for a plain black coffee. The waiter nodded, and hurried back to the coffee machine, busying himself with it. Clint focused his attention back on his laptop. Next name – Wanda Maximoff. Nothing.

“Fuck it all,” he muttered. The waiter returned and left his coffee by his elbow with a softly spoken, “There you go, sir.” Clint barely noticed him as he typed in his last name.

 _Tony Stark – three hits._ That didn’t sit right with Clint. He clicked on the first link and read the article with a sudden rising nausea.

_‘Two year old Anthony Stark was killed this morning alongside his parents Maria and Howard Stark in a freak car accident. Sources claim that Howard Stark may have been drunk and caused the accident, while already conspiracy theorists are calling it an inside job.’_

Clint felt like he might just faint as he changed his search to simply ‘Stark’ and clicked another link at random.

_‘The late Howard Stark’s legacy will live on under the leadership of his business partner, Obadiah Stane. It was announced today that Stane is the sole inheritor of Stark Industries, and now has the controlling shares in the company. What direction he will choose to take the company is anyone’s guess, with Howard Stark recently announcing his intention to move away from weapons production and into medical research and development.’_

On and on it went, hit after hit about Stane taking over Stark Industries and merging with HammerTech. About them revolutionising the weapons industry and creating new technology in the form of cell phones and portable computers.

Clint was fairly certain that he’d either gone insane or was dreaming. He slammed the top of the laptop shut and sighed, running a hand over his face. He was absolutely exhausted, broke and stranded with no idea what in the _fuck_ was happening.

“Freakin’ _Australia_ ,” he mumbled. “What the hell ‘m I doing in Australia?”

There was a sound from behind him, and a feeling that Clint instantly recognised as someone holding a gun to his back, a female voice speaking quietly into his ear. “I believe we can answer that, Agent Barton. Please stand up quietly and come with us.” The gun was pressed in a little harder, and the woman whispering in his ear moved back and stood to the left of him.

Clint gave a single nod to show he understood and tossed his crumpled up note onto the table. The woman picked up his laptop, and another man appeared at her side, placing a hand on Clint’s lower back, forcing Clint in between them.

“C’mon then babe,” he said cheerfully, his thick Australian accent grating at Clint’s frayed nerves. “Let’s get ya poor sister home, huh?” Clint forced a smile to his face and allowed them to lead him out into the bright sunshine of Melbourne.

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

Wanda sat quietly in the small room where she and her brother were waiting for their parents. The school was small, but nice, and she was hopeful that their admissions would go smoothly. Moving to Romania from Sokovia for their final years of high school was a big change, but she was excited. Pietro was bouncing his leg beside her. Finally, the door opened and her mother and father came out with big smiles on their faces.

Monday morning couldn’t come fast enough.

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

Steve waited three days before he gave up on Clint. He’d tried calling the number back over and over, and just got a disconnection message. Either something had gone wrong or he was in transit still. Given the strange state of the world he was in, Steve was more inclined to think that something had happened.

He grabbed his duffel, all the cash he could find in the tiny apartment, which was unfortunately less than a hundred dollars. He’d sighed angrily when he realised that wherever he was, it was obvious that Tony had cut them off. No doubt he was bitter about some argument or another they’d had. The only conclusion Steve could come to that made any sense at all was that Tony had somehow managed to drug him and move him out of the compound. And he’d clearly done the same to the others. He’d managed to get Clint to Australia of all places, and left Steve here with forged documents and a receipt pointing him to Bucky’s little sister.

He just… didn’t understand why. All his attempts to connect to the Avengers compound had been met with a pre-recorded message of ‘ _We’re sorry, but your call cannot be connected. Please check the number, and try again.’_

He’d tried to find a way to contact Natasha, and Bruce and even Thor but nothing had come of it. Tony was a ghost, there was no sign of the usually flamboyant man. Nothing on the television nor around the town that he’d been able to see. There was no one around him that could tell him anything either, as apparently his _dishonourable discharge_ had been international news. His neighbours all treated him like some kind of leper, and he was feeling more and more resentful with every passing moment.

 _This_ was what he’d fought for? What he’d sacrificed himself for?

He’d always thought that Tony Stark was the worst of what the future had to offer, but he was starting to wonder if maybe it was just _everyone_ in this time that acted that way. They were all selfish, all cruel and all so quick to believe whatever drivel the media told them to. So he packed his things and left, determined to walk to the compound and demand answers from Tony. He didn’t think to use the internet and see if there had been any news or information there because he didn’t trust it would be true. He’d done his basic research ‘online’ in the beginning, but so much of it was always changing, and he struggled to keep up.

Steve walked quickly out of town, waiting until he was able to get in amongst the trees that lined the highway before he broke out into a sprint. There was something… off though. He’d noticed it first yesterday when he attempted to lift his bed to look beneath it and it had taken both hands to do so. His run wasn’t as fast as it usually was, and he could feel the burning of his lungs in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in decades.

It was as though the serum weren’t as strong as it had been.

What should have taken him no more than a half-day, has taken him a day and a half. He had to stop to catch his breath, to _sleep_. He should have been able to go weeks without sleeping, and instead he is… he is almost…

Nothing more than human.

Steve’s arrival at the area where the compound should have been, was supposed to be unnoticed. He remembered where the line of security started, where FRIDAY’s sensors sat. Instead, it’s a busy hive of activity, trucks and people everywhere. There are crates being moved around, small planes and helicopters on a landing pad where the lap pool should be.

There is no compound. There is a warehouse full of weapons being shipped out.

“What…” Steve said quietly. He moved closer, crouched down behind a tree and looked harder. His eyes didn’t focus on small details the way they should have, and his senses, while still sharper than normal, felt dulled.

“Well well, what’ve we got ‘ere?” Steve went completely still as the distinctive feeling of a gun being pressed against his skull registered.. For the first time in _decades_ someone had managed to sneak up on him. “C’mon then, up on yer feet Cap’n.”

He stood slowly and spun on the spot. A group of men are standing behind him, odd looking guns in their hands and uniforms that look just like HYDRA’s on. He could see the logo of Hammer/Stane on their arms and raised his hands deliberately above his head, exaggerating his movements so he didn’t startle them into shooting.

“Easy fella’s,” he said quietly. “We don’t need any trouble.” The men just laugh at him.

“Aw Cap’n ‘Merica is afraid ta git inta it wit’ us, lads,” the one at the front said, and Steve frowned. This was not the usual response. “Hones’ly Cap, ya don’ worry us. Yer a half-baked science-fair experimen’ an’ we’ve been given th’ real deal, mate. Ya ain’t gonna hurt us,” he put his gun away in his pocket and stepped forward, pressing his chest against Steve’s, and Steve felt repulsed by both the proximity and the feeling of the man’s moist breath hitting his face. “We gon’ hurt you though pal. C’mon, _try us_.”

 _I’m… a failed experiment?_ Steve’s thoughts were running wild and he shook his head. “Alright, I’ll come with you,” he said instead and put his hands on top of his head. “Lead the way fellas.”

He was lead down into the warehouse complex, into a nondescript building at the back, the men flanking him on every side. He kept his hands on his head and his eyes down. They lead him into a small room and pushed him roughly down into a chair.

“Jus’ sit an’ wait,” the man who had threatened him gave him a nasty smile as they walked out of the room. “Stane’s gonna be _real_ happy to git ya back, Cap.”

_Back?_

Steve had barely had time to shift his weight and try to get into an optimal position to strike out when the door opened again. He’d never met Obadiah Stane, but he’d seen the photos in Tony’s lab of him as a child with his Uncle Obie. He was a huge man, and Steve could make out the lines of muscles underneath his suit. He sat down opposite Steve and smirked.

“Well well,” he said, the cigar hanging from his mouth barely muffling the words. “The last golden egg of Howard fuckin’ Stark has come back to me. He fucked it up,” he continued, tipping his chair back and resting his feet on the table. “The serum process. Some bullshit thing called _Vita-Rays_ was s’posed to activate it. It was surprisingly easy to sabotage it. Howard lost his standing with the military, and a lot of his political sway with that.”

Stane chewed absently on the end of his cigar, and Steve wriggled uncomfortably in his seat.

“You were supposed to be the peak of humanity. A Super Soldier to win the war and change the world. Instead, all it did was fix your asthma and make you pretty. You’re no different from the average bodybuilder.” He flicked the cigar into the trashcan by the door and smiled, a slow, cruel thing. Steve swallowed hard, and tipped his chin back. He would _not_ back down to this bully. “Ah m’boy,” he said softly. “It’s gonna be so much fun to see what our HYDRA division can do with you. After all, we’ve had _such_ success with your old war buddy.”

As he stood and moved to a panel set in the wall behind him, Steve realised he was in a _lot_ of trouble. This Stane fellow had Bucky, was HYDRA and knew about the serum. A serum that had _failed_ in him. There was a hissing noise, and Steve gasped as his lungs seized up. Stane was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, as an odd purple gas filled the room. Steve’s eyes were watering, and he felt as though he’d been through this before.

His dream.

The strange woman with the white eyes. _“Your wish is my command, Captain.”_

_My wish. What wish?_

_‘Honestly, there are a lot of days lately where I can’t help but think the world, and us, would be better off if Tony Stark had never been born.’_

Steve realised then what the odd woman had meant.

“My… wish…” he gasped out, and felt his mouth twitch in the parody of a smile as he fell into darkness.

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

The second his eyes opened, Bruce sat upright, gasping and gripping his chest, fingers tearing the fabric and popping the buttons with the force of his grasp. He could feel the Hulk settled in the back of his mind as always, felt the forced calm of his meditation training settle over him. A look to his side showed Vision sitting up slowly, and another glance around showed Wanda, Steve, Nat and Clint all doing the same. They were all rubbing their heads and groaning, and Bruce knew that if _his_ head was hurting enough to give him a headache, theirs must be agony.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Clint growled, head in his hands and his shoulders slumped down.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispered. “But I don’t ever want to go back.” There were murmured sounds of agreement from around the room and Bruce sighed.

“Did any of you work it out?” he asked bluntly. “Or did you just sit back and wait to be saved?”

Clint looked confused, as did Wanda, but Nat and Steve both looked away. _Typical_.

“It was… somewhat obvious when I woke up in an interrogation room with Fury and Coulson,” Nat said softly. “They didn’t know me.”

“I was stuck in Melbourne, Australia,” Clint said bitterly, his voice muffled by his hands still. “And then I was fuckin’ detained by some assholes from HYDRA who claimed I went off-mission. I blacked out after that and woke up just now. I’m guessin’ I died.”

Steve sighed. “I was alone, and the serum had been a failure. There was no Vita-Rays to activate it properly. I was, essentially, a glorified bodybuilder. Obadiah Stane had me at the end there. I remember him mocking me… and my wish.”

“I was happy,” Wanda whispered, small tendrils of her scarlet magic winding around her fingertips as she spoke. “So very happy.”

Vision simply said, “I did not exist.” Bruce gave a harsh sigh.

“I was a prisoner,” he said, glaring around the room. “Trapped in a small cell, drugged and compliant. Thaddeus Ross had me.”

“We wished for a world without Tony Stark,” Steve whispered. “And we got our wish. But that… that was hell.”

Bruce stood carefully, mindful of the aching in his lower back. “We’ve got to start treating Tony with the respect he deserves,” he said softly. “He’s done so much for us, for the world, and -”

“He’s still an asshole,” Clint muttered, and Wanda agreed.

“My life was better,” she hissed. “I was not broken!”

“Stark is still a liability,” Nat said, her eyes meeting Bruce’s and pleading with him to understand. “He’s not a good fit.”

“He’s not a team player,” Steve agreed. “But we still -”

“But you still want to use my resources, my money, _my compound_. You like the convenience of having FRIDAY around, but you’re terrified she’s going to become another Ultron. You resent me,” Tony stepped into the room fully then, sunglasses on and his arms crossed.

“Little Wanda,” he sighed, “you hate me, and you blame me for what you have become and yet you hold no hatred for HYDRA for making you what you are. You don’t hesitate or regret your powers. In fact,” he smirked at her, and leant against the doorframe. “You seem to take such pleasure in using them around me. And if it weren’t for this,” Tony touched his chest, hand covering the arc reactor glowing steadily in his chest. “You’d be wiggling inside my mind like the virus you are. But I’ve upgraded in the last few weeks since you joined us. My mind is impenetrable to you.”

Tony sighed again and walked into the room, his hands tucked into the pockets of his too tight pants, his shoes that Bruce knew cost more than all their clothing and accessories put together, shined to perfection. Tony was always so put together, and Bruce couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation of dread dripping down his spine when Tony took off those sunglasses, and they saw the pure hatred in his expressive brown eyes.   

“You can consider this my official resignation from the Avengers,” he said. Bruce swallowed harshly, and the sound seemed to echo in the dead silence of the room. “I am withdrawing _all_ my support. You will no longer be permitted to live off my dime. Everything that has been bought with my money will be reclaimed. My lawyers and staff are clearing out the compound now. Anything that you personally own or purchased will be put into storage for you to recover at your own expense.” Tony glared around at all of them, before his eyes settled on Steve.

“All weapons, armour and technology created, maintained and developed by me is being reclaimed,” he said softly. “Your shield included, _Captain_. And the Falcon wings. My lawyers are on their way to find Mr Wilson as we speak. You will be obliged to find your own lodging now. The compound is officially closed to you all. Banner,” Tony’s cold, cold eyes fixed on Bruce and he felt his stomach churn. “All lab equipment and experiments paid for and maintained by me will be sold and destroyed. You may keep your notes, though I doubt they will do you much good without my financial backing.”

Tony walked over to the door and paused a moment. “You know,” he said quietly. “I could forgive things like not inviting me to movie nights, or forgetting my birthday when I remembered all of yours. But knowing that you think so little of what I do, of who I _am_ and what I’ve actually done for this world? For _you_ ?” He looked back over his shoulder at them all. “I saw it all, assholes. Everything you saw, _I saw too._ I changed the _world_ . I reframed the future and made it _better_ . And all you lot can do is take and take, while I give and give and _give_. Who do you think pays for the damages you do during fights? Who is it that you think handles your press and makes you look good? I guarantee you, you’re not going to like the world very much without me around to cover for you. Good luck!” he threw over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. “My Mistress is a fickle lady.”

Bruce looked around at the stunned expressions on their faces. “Well,” he sighed and moved to sit back down. “We’re screwed, guys. Really, really screwed.”

 _“I will not allow my Merchant to be hurt again,”_ the voice from earlier whispered throughout the room, and they all startled and looked around wildly. The woman didn’t appear again though, but she laughed at their fear. _“Now, you will live with the eternal repercussions of your choices. I wish you luck, Avengers, for there is greater evil in the universe than I on it’s way to you.”_

“Greater evil?” Steve asked, and she laughed again.

 _“Oh Captain,”_ she whispered. _“You will all fall before him, and my Merchant shall reap him for me. You are… nothing, in the grand scheme. A moth before a flame.”_

There was a silence for a moment.

 _“After all,”_ she whispered to them, the poison in her tone making Bruce’s heart race. _“The Merchant of Death needs no one but his Queen. And_ **_I_ ** _am eternally loyal.”_

 

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**


	2. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's POV.

Tony watched silently from his seat in the kitchen as the rest of his ‘team’ broke him down and bitched him out. One thing about working with the Avengers was knowing when it was just easier to give in and walk away. And he’d learnt that the hard way with the Ultron debacle. He sighed and flicked his hand along the hologram to mute it, not wanting to hear anymore of the vitriol they were spewing.

“ _Boss?”_ Tony couldn’t help the small part of him that still expected to hear JARVIS whenever FRIDAY spoke, but it was getting better.

“Yeah FRI-baby?” he made a point of giving her nearest camera a kind smile, and she turned the heat up a few degrees in her own version of a hug. A baby she may be, but she was learning so fast, especially now he’d removed the limitations that he’d initially put on her. He told Rogers and co. she was more VI than AI, but he was happy to watch and let her learn and grow. It’d be years before she was anywhere near what JARVIS had been, but he was proud every single time she took initiative and acted on her own. And she loved his nicknames for her.

_“Uh, it would seem that the Mistress is… well, she’s granting a wish to the team, Boss.”_

Tony sat up straight and unmuted his video feed, immediately hearing the soft, velvety tone of his Mistress’s voice.

 _“I have heard the desires of your most traitorous hearts. I am giving you your wish. A world without Tony Stark.”_ She laughed, and Tony realised that she was playing with them. _“Let us see how long you last in a world without its light.”_ He watched as Steve choked and gasped and demanded answers before succumbing to the mist he could barely make out over the video.

It was only a few moments after she revealed herself to Steve that she appeared in the seat beside him, as relaxed and composed as though she’d been there all along.

“My darling,” she whispered to him. “I do hope you don’t mind that I do this.” Tony shook his head and she smiled at him, reaching out to gently cup his cheek and run her fingers through his hair. “Oh my sweet Merchant,” she sighed. “They are so undeserving of you. Will you allow me to show you?”

Tony smirked at her, sighing when she saw right through his attempt at bravado, and shrugged. “You know I’d be insulted if you didn’t,” he aimed for a light and teasing tone, but it fell flat. “I guess… knowing what they really think, knowing what I really mean to them could only be beneficial in the end.” He sighed. “Maybe you and Pep and Rhodey have been right all along… maybe they are more trouble than they’re worth.” He looked back down at the packet of papers sitting in front of him, the words ‘ _VISA APPLICATION PENDING APPROVAL’_ stamped on the front and rubbed at his tired, itchy eyes.

“Is that for the little red witch?” his Mistress asked him softly, resting her head gently on his shoulder when Tony nodded. “She does not deserve your help, my love.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice just as soft as hers and rested his cheek on her head, breathing in the scent of the cosmos and mint that always seemed to linger about her. “You smell like the stars.”

She laughed and nodded. “I was keeping watch over Thanos,” she said. “He is still attempting to fulfil this ludicrous self-assigned mission to woo me,” she finished bitterly. “The fool. He thinks that destroying half the universe will make me happy? It merely overfills my kingdom.”

Tony breathed deeply, taking the smell of the stars and the universe into himself, letting it move through his veins as it filled him and cleared his head. His Mistress’s warm cheek was steady against his shoulder, and Tony felt at peace for the first time in months. He sighed softly again, his breath barely ruffling the thick dark curls underneath his cheek.

“Will you show me their truth, my lady?”

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

She showed him Steve first, of course.

They watched as he woke up in the strange room and tried to make sense of where he was. His demands to FRIDAY pissed Tony off quick smart. He’d done nothing but mock and abuse the AI in the compound, and he knew that FRIDAY despised Steve with every part of her code. The Avengers constantly referred to her as ‘Ultron Jr’ when they thought Tony was not listening, or that they were in an area where she wasn’t installed.

Morons.

“What’s his deal?” Tony asked quietly as they watched Steve trying to figure out the strange cellphone and then talk with Clint. “Why does he seem… less?”

The Lady flicked her curls over her shoulder and gestured widely at the room with one slender, pale hand. Tony noted with an absent sort of amusement that she’d clearly been experimenting with nail polish again, as each of her long nails were a different shade of red with gold tips. _Subtle,_ he thought with a grin.

“This is his new reality,” she said. “He treats you as though you do not matter at all in the grand scheme of things. In this world, there were no _‘Vita-Rays’_ to activate his serum to its full potential. The man you knew as Obadiah Stane is a loyal and powerful member of HYDRA, in every reality that I have seen. He and Howard have known each other since childhood, though originally Howard didn’t take him on as a business partner until after the success of the Super Soldier Program.”

Tony nodded, and watched as Steve tore his apartment apart and paused on the receipt for ‘ _Barnes Dry-cleaning_ ’. He watched with total apathy as Steve dialed the number and then sat and shook afterwards.

“This government, this _world_ , is controlled by HYDRA. Because Howard Stark’s involvement in the Super Soldier Program was a failure, Obadiah was able to talk his way into the company sooner, helping Howard to salvage it from ruination.” The Lady paused, and Tony watched as she walked over to Steve and rested a hand gently along his jaw as he sat, and noticed the shiver that went through him at her touch.

“This man was never worthy,” she hissed, and her nails dug into Steve’s jaw, the soldier shuddering with it, though Tony knew he’d be feeling nothing more than an odd chill. “Your family and _you_ my love, changed the very fabric of this universe. You are my Merchant, my darling Futurist. By taking away the success of the program that made this man what he was, Howard lost it all. All he had left was his weapons. The Steven Rogers of this world has always worked for HYDRA, though he does not know it. The mission he assigned himself to rescue one James Barnes was a complete failure. At the cost of his entire squad, he went after one man.”

The Lady released her grip on Steve’s jaw and moved away from him, wiping her hand along the skirt of her long black dress as though it were dirty. She took her place back beside Tony and kissed his cheek softly, before she continued.

“He did not defeat the Red Skull. He was cryogenically frozen in a military base in Canada after his failed mission until a few years ago, when HYDRA wanted its showman back on the public stage. They set up quite a wonderful tale of his heroic sacrifice for the public, and they accepted it, as did he. Rogers was supposed to complete the military training he started alongside the new recruits, and then join HYDRA’s troops on the field under the guise of serving the US military. Instead, he has been dishonorably discharged.”

She laughed then, a low and wicked sound that never failed to send chills down Tony’s spine in the best way. “He is to be assassinated by the Winter Soldier in the next few weeks. Stane is already working on it. The publicity surrounding the legacy of Captain America has taken a full turn for the worse,” she grinned at Tony and he smiled back.

“The Winter Soldier,” she whispered to him, “is none other than his beloved Bucky. He was taken by HYDRA from the battlefield and turned into their ultimate Asset. Brutal, loyal and always _ready to comply_.” She gave him a sad smile. “He is, unfortunately, the one who ended the lives of your parents in your universe, my love. But his poor mind is fractured in so many places, so many ways.” She reached out and gently ran her hand through Tony’s hair. He just sighed. The grief and rage he’d felt for his mother’s death had quietened down since his Mistress introduced herself, and he felt barely a twinge of renewed grief now. “I have told you before that your father and mother did not die the way you believed. The Soldier is… important. We will find him, and we will make him ours. He will fulfil his mission to eliminate Steve Rogers.” The cruel streak in his Mistress was a mile wider than his, and he _loved_ it.

Loved _her_.

In what way, he had no idea, but Tony knew that there was no force anywhere in the Universe that would sway his loyalty from her.

“Have you had your fill here for now, my darling?” Her quiet voice broke through his thoughts, and Tony nodded.

“Yeah,” he gave the depressed soldier on the bed one last look and shook his head. “He was my whole world growing up,” Tony whispered. “I was always striving to be _good_ , to be better, to be more like _him_ so that my dad would at least look at me with a fraction of the love and respect he had for _Captain America_ ,” he spat. “But I was never enough.  _Never_.” He slipped his hand into his Mistress’s and let her cool fingers thread through his and clasp them tightly, breathing out slowly and letting himself steady again. When he felt calmer, and like he could speak without breaking apart he asked, “Where to next on this tour?”

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

Watching Bruce wake up in the tiny cell in Thaddeus Ross’ custody didn’t hurt half as badly as he thought it would.

He felt no real sense of guilt, there was no crushing desperation to run to his aid and demand he be freed.

Tony wondered idly if it was how Bruce had felt all those times that he’d stood back and watched their ‘teammates’ pull him down and tear him apart. Like it was just easier to stand back and watch then it was to get involved and draw that attention, that _wrath_ , onto yourself.

“He isn’t being harmed. Not really,” his Mistress said quietly, as they watched Bruce examine himself and his small room. Tony watched as he eyed the oddly glowing door with a sceptical eye before sitting back down. “They keep him contained, let him out to go down to the labs to work on his cure, and they keep the beast within him calm and asleep.” _Just as he’s always wanted_ goes unsaid, but Tony can hear it anyway.

Bruce had never accepted the Hulk. Tony had right away. The Big Green Guy was just another part of Bruce. And he’d thought the world of Bruce Banner. Someone to science with, to hang out and talk about things that usually only Rhodey would’ve had a chance of following along with.

But Bruce had stood by while Thor dangled him by his neck and shaken him like a ragdoll. Had left after the Ultron fiasco and let Tony take all the blame. He’d only come crawling back to the compound in the last few weeks when Tony had already gone public and accepted the full blame and cost for what had happened. He still refused to acknowledge Wanda, but when _Bruce_ did it, he wasn’t being cruel or petty. He just needed _space and time to accept her_.

But when _Tony_ did it, when he avoided her or refused to sit beside her at meals or meetings, he was being petty and deliberately fuelling tension in the team.

Tony sighed, and leant his head against the Lady’s shoulder. She was never truly warm to the touch, always some odd combination of almost warm, and almost cool. She was the perfect temperature for Tony.

“What will happen to him?” he whispered, as Ross appeared at the door to speak with Bruce. His Mistress didn’t reply right away, choosing to watch as Bruce asked for Tony, for the Avengers and Thaddeus actually looked concerned for his mental state.

She didn’t speak until Tony saw the realisation dawning on Bruce’s face as he whispered, _“Oh, fuck… We wished for a world without Tony.”_

“He will be taken to have his mind evaluated,” she said quietly as the men slapped what Tony recognised as vibranium restraints on Bruce’s wrists and shoved him roughly towards the door as he kept mumbling, _“Oh God, what’ve we done? Oh God, oh_ **_God_ ** _…”_

“Do not feel badly for him, my sweet love,” she kissed his cheek and moved them to the hallway so Tony could see as Bruce stumbled along in the soldier’s grip, still mumbling, and Thaddeus followed slowly. “He is not mistreated for all that this Thaddeus fellow threatened it. He is simply curious. He takes no more than a vial or two of blood once a month, and has been… surprisingly accepting of Banner’s other side,” she finished with a sigh. “In all actuality, this is one of the best outcomes for him. There are few other universes that end with him safe. He is either killed while his beast is subdued, tossed into a smaller cell and forgotten to time or simply vanishes of his own accord.”

Tony scuffed his foot on the ground and sighed. “I thought he was my real friend,” he murmured. “I thought that maybe, just this once, someone had chosen _me_. Someone who could understand me… someone who liked me for just being me, y’know? Not Tony Stark, Billionaire. Not the playboy, not the money or the fame… just me.”

His Mistress ran her fingers down his face and gently caught the stray tear on his cheek. “Don’t, my love. These people, these Avengers,” she waved her hand at the hallway as she spoke, and Tony watched in awe as stars and universes sprang into life and died away in an instant before his eyes as she moved them along. “They’ve never deserved your devotion. You were always so much more than them.”

She moved away from Tony, and held her arms out to the side, spinning as gracefully as any dancer. Her long dark hair and dress twirled around her thin frame and Tony could only watch as she laughed and life and death swirled through her fingertips. Her pupil less white eyes glowed in the darkness of the universes around them, but Tony didn’t fear her. She was the Mistress of Death and he was her ever-loyal Merchant. Her kingdom for Earth would never be empty.

She whirled again, crooking a finger at Tony, and he let himself be drawn to her like a moth to a flame. “Dance with me, my darling,” she sang to him, and Tony let himself be swept away. She laughed and twirled them around, and Tony was helpless against her.

He grinned in her arms as they spun and weaved a nonsensical pattern throughout her universes, knew that it was madness that he felt safer being danced through the multiverse by the Lady of Death then he did in his own home surrounded by his teammates. And he embraced that madness, took the lunacy of it into his heart and stitched it into place beside the part of him that declared him the Merchant of Death.

When they were still again, they were in a small room, and Tony groaned at the sight of Natasha gagged and bound to a chair.

“Is she incapable of staying out of other people’s shit?” Tony grinned at his Mistress’s giggle, and allowed himself to be towed over to the corner to watch. He was amused when Fury clearly thought she was off the reservation, but he still felt a pang in his stomach at the sight of Agent walking into the room.

“He lives still,” the Mistress said, watching calmly as Phil laid his work equipment out on the table beside an increasingly nervous looking Natasha. “He is… neither of this world, nor yet gone from it. He is poised on the ledge of life and death.” Tony looked at her in confusion, as Natasha started to scream behind him. “He was mortally wounded,” she raised a brow at Tony and he nodded. “And he died. But he lingered in the veil between my realm and yours. He toes the line even now.”

Tony sighed. “Not really a surprise there,” he replied bitterly. “Fury has always been a scheming motherfucker.”

The Mistress hummed quietly in agreement and waved her hand. Natasha’s frantic screaming faded into nothing and Tony blinked as a new face came into focus.

Clint had never been shy about hiding his feelings towards Tony. He’d never hidden the fact that he felt nothing but disdain and dislike for the billionaire. Happy to take whatever he could – upgrades, a free compound, a fancy quinjet to fly all over the world in – but never a single kind word for the man who single handedly designed and manufactured it all.

Tony watched as Clint spoke to Steve over the phone, working out that he was in Australia, and then storming out of the apartment.

They followed him to the airport, and Tony couldn’t hold in his laughter as Clint tried to use the ‘ _I’m an Avenger’_ thing at the Qantas check in desk.

He watched with a grin on his face as Clint stomped away through the airport to a little café and proceeded to take his bad mood out on the poor waiter. Tony sat up on Clint’s table as he searched the internet for them all, and sighed when the HYDRA agents approached him.

“Clint’s HYDRA?”

His mistress hummed and swung her legs from her own perch beside Tony, watching with a cold look in her eye as Clint was steered out. Tony couldn’t help the small smile he got at the sight of her bare feet.

“He willingly joined them almost a decade ago,” she said eventually, examining the polish on her IronMan themed nails. “He was broken and disillusioned after the death of his lover, and was operating as a mercenary for hire under the name Ronin. HYDRA took notice and helped him to hone his skills. In all his years as an agent, this is the first time he’s gone off mission.” She leant back a little and looked up at the ceiling, her white eyes glowing faintly. “And he called their number one most wanted as a _friend_ ,” she said gleefully. “It just - it doesn’t get much better than that!” She giggled and fanned herself dramatically, and Tony watched as the glow in her eyes flared brighter still before it dimmed again. She sighed happily, kicking her legs out, and wiggling her toes.

Tony snorted and let himself slide off the table, extending a hand out for his Lady to take. “And what’s gonna happen to the asshole?”

“Punishment, my Merchant. As befitting of his crime,” she said, and Tony could almost feel the ice in her voice. She smiled at him then, and her entire demeanour softened. “Come then, my love. Only a little bit more to see.”

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

Tony sighed loudly when he saw Wanda and Pietro, and his Lady gave him a gentle kiss, nothing more than a brief press of her soft lips against his.

“It wasn’t you that ruined their lives, love. Not directly. It was a weapon that _you_ designed, however, that was used. The absence of that weapon means their parents did not die that night, and they quickly decided to move their family out of Sokovia.” She waved a hand around to gesture at the walls. “This school, however, required more money then they had access to. They moved from central Sokovia to a smaller place on the outskirts and saved as best they could. The twins have only a few years of schooling left, and so they were able to move here to Romania. They avoided HYDRA’s grasp.”

Tony sighed again and ducked his head. “I ruined her life after all,” he mumbled. “I took away _everything_ just by doing my job.”

She pulled Tony in and ran her fingers down his throat to tap at the arc reactor glowing in his chest. “You did _not_ . You did not fire the weapon, nor did you sell it. You did your work, and you made such glorious weapons and instruments of death and destruction that you caught _my_ eye. You, my precious love, who carries a star within you,” she whispered to him, her hand splayed over the reactor and the light shone beneath her skin, illuminating the pale flesh like a hand held over a torch.

“My love, my love,” another gentle kiss and Tony felt his battered old heart fill with joy, “you are _my_ star. And all of this,” another lazy wave with her free hand at the school around them, the twins sitting on their chairs, “is _nothing_ . You are _everything_.”

Tony smiled at her, and placed his hand over hers where it was still covering his arc reactor. “My Lady, you always know just what to say to this tired old Merchant.”

She gave a very inelegant snort at that, and swatted at him lightly. “Old, he says,” she huffed and with a snap of her fingers, they were somewhere else again. “ _Old._ You’ve nothing on _me_ , little Merchant of mine _._ ”

Tony just grinned at her, entirely unapologetic. His Mistress rolled her eyes and gestured around at them. “Do you know where we are now?”

He spared a glance at their surroundings and nodded. “The Compound. Or, no…” he squinted down at the area in front of him. “The warehouses that become the Compound.”

His Mistress nodded and tugged on his hand to lead him down towards it. Tony stared at the hive of activity around him as they walked. Everywhere he looked there were massive crates marked with Hammer/Stane logos and men and women in blatantly obvious HYDRA uniforms.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he murmured, spinning on the spot as he watched crate after crate of weapons be loaded into waiting trucks, and smaller, more secured little crates being loaded onto the waiting planes.

“This is Stane’s dream,” she said simply. “He has everything he has ever wanted. Including a perfected version of the serum that was given to Rogers. He has a small and fiercely loyal little task force who guard him, and he has been subtly enhanced by another version of his serum. He is a very high ranking HYDRA official, much as he was in your original universe.”

“I always suspected, after the whole - ” Tony tapped his arc reactor lightly “ – assassination attempt thing.”

They stood quietly then and watched as Steve approached and was quickly apprehended.

“That man’s accent is atrocious,” Tony bitched as they followed them through to a smaller building where Steve was shoved down into a chair. “Absolutely appalling. I can’t even tell where he’s from.” Tony rolled his eyes as his Mistress simply shrugged and perched herself up on the table.

Tony couldn’t help the small flinch when Obadiah walked into the room. He’d forgotten how _large_ the man was, and it felt as though suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. His Mistress’s steady hand coming to rest on his shoulder helped, and Tony took a deep breath as Obadiah started talking.

“What does he mean by Steve’s come back to him?”

The Lady sighed and moved to ruffle Steve’s hair. “This little angel,” she spat, “was here for quite some time while he was frozen. How do you think that man was able to replicate the serum so perfectly? He had a _living_ sample.” She moved away and dusted her hands clean as Obadiah’s little rant finished up with a taunt about the Winter Soldier.

“I want him,” Tony said suddenly. “The Winter Soldier. I want him.”

“Then you shall have him, my love.” She kissed his cheek softly. “Your friend here has been searching for him since the drama with SHIELD being exposed.”

“I’m not surprised,” Tony sighed. “Is there anything more to see?” He watched with a disinterested expression as Obadiah’s lackeys dragged Steve’s unconscious form out into the hall and disappeared from sight.

“No darling. We’re done.” His Mistress clapped her hands and they were back in the bright sunlight of the kitchen where they’d started. Tony looked down at the folder and it’s contents on the bench in front of him, and scooped it all up into his hands.

“Hell no,” he growled, and dumped it into the sink. He reached over for the bottle of red wine on the countertop and tipped it all over the file. A quick rummage through the top drawer revealed a box of matches, and Tony cheerfully dropped several at once on the folder, savouring the _whoosh_ of the alcohol catching alight.

The sound of his Mistress laughing as FRIDAY panicked about a sudden fire brought him out of his little trance.

“Let’s get this done,” he said, and she nodded, disappearing into the shadows behind the door.

Tony put his sunglasses back on, and stood quietly as they discussed what had happened, and their own takes on it all. But he couldn’t stay silent anymore when Rogers piped up. It was like a red hot ember had been glowing gently in his stomach and exploded into scorching flames when Tony heard him speak.

“He’s not a team player, but we still -”

 _Oh_ **_fuck no_ **.

“But you still want to use my resources, my money, _my compound_ . You like the convenience of having FRIDAY around, but you’re terrified she’s going to become another Ultron. You resent me,” Tony stepped into the room fully then, his arms crossed and his very _soul_ seething with rage.

His eyes landed on Wanda, and he felt sick. She hated him, actively fucked with his mind and _enjoyed_ it, because someone, somewhere, had fired a missile with his name on it at her house. But he knew better now, knew that he was safe. She wouldn’t get her fingers in his mind ever again.

“Little Wanda,” he sighed at her, and felt the warm sensation of his Mistress’s hands on his shoulders as he spoke. He ignored the rest of the room as he informed her of his upgrades, that his mind was officially closed to her.

He walked into the room and stared around at them all. None of them, except Bruce, had any sign of regret on their face. And even with Bruce… Tony was still so angry that he’d been left alone to deal with the fallout of Ultron. It hadn’t even been their fault, not really. It was just an unfortunate chain reaction that resulted in the sentient being in the stone taking over his program…

And it had cost him JARVIS.

“You can consider this my official resignation from the Avengers,” he said, and ignored the way Bruce’s face paled and he swallowed like he wanted to be sick. It made him feel good – like he was lancing an infection – to inform them all that he was withdrawing every dime of his support. A few quick taps on the phone in his pocket to FRIDAY and his lawyers were sent the paperwork he’d drawn up and signed when he first joined the Avengers, updated regularly, in case he decided to leave. Or, as was more likely, was screwed over. Thank God he’d mastered texting without looking years ago.

“All weapons, armour and technology created, maintained and developed by me is being reclaimed,” he said softly. “Your shield included, _Captain_. And the Falcon wings. My lawyers are on their way to find Mr Wilson as we speak. You will be obliged to find your own lodging now. The compound is officially closed to you all.”

He took little pleasure in informing Bruce that his experiments were destined for the incinerator, but swallowed it down.

He paused at the door on his way out and looked back at them briefly. Thought of the expensive and lavish gifts he’d gotten all of them for their birthdays, and the fact that not one of them had given him so much as a post-it note with ‘happy birthday’ written on it. He thought of movie nights he’d accidentally stumbled on and left silently when he realised he’d not been invited. All of the things he’d done for them, done for the _world_ , and it was still never enough.

He looked back at them, and he felt _nothing._

“You know,” he said quietly, and tapped out one last message on his phone to FRIDAY, and turned his gaze back to the hallway. It’d only take her a matter of minutes to find what he wanted. “I could forgive things like not inviting me to movie nights, or forgetting my birthday when I remembered all of yours. But knowing that you think so little of what I do, of who I _am_ and what I’ve actually done for this world? For _you_?” He looked back over his shoulder at them all. How had he ever thought they’d cared for him at all?

He was _Tony fucking Stark._ He was better than them, better than _this_.

He was _IronMan._

And he was done. Done supporting them, and covering up for them after shitty battles.

It was time for the world to see them as they really were. As Tony had really seen them.

“I saw it all, assholes. Everything you saw, _I saw too._ I changed the _world_ . I reframed the future and made it _better_ . And all you lot can do is take and take, while I give and give and _give_. Who do you think pays for the damages you do during fights? Who is it that you think handles your press and makes you look good? I guarantee you, you’re not going to like the world very much without me around to cover for you. Good luck!” he threw over his shoulder as he walked out of the room, a grin on his face and a bounce in his step. “My Mistress is a fickle lady.”

He could vaguely hear as Bruce said something, and then the melodic tones of his Mistress’s beautiful voice, but his mind was already on the phone in his hand and FRIDAY’s voice in the comm unit in his ear.

_‘I’ve got him, Boss. He’s in Bucharest.’_

_Excellent,_ Tony hummed to himself.

He loved Europe this time of year.

**-}X{--}X{--}X{--}X{-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo... I am planning to come back to this verse, so I decided to make it a series :D  
> <3


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